


Too Late

by rebel_raven



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 1920's era, Angst, Dark Theme, Death, Graphic Description, Grillby owns a tea shop, Hit man, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mentioned Major Character Death, Monsters on the Surface, Pain, Past Grillby/Papyrus, Poisoning, Reader is male, underswap - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 17:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebel_raven/pseuds/rebel_raven
Summary: Be careful when handling fire, you may get burnt.





	Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't seem to stop writing fics about Grillby these days and I have been fully enveloped into my love of Papby fics. Though, I guess this isn't your usual Papby fic. Just gonna warn you now, it's kinda dark, little bit of horror but not much. Sadness may occur. And I think this is the second time I've had super short tags on a fic. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -RR

****“Hmn? Oh, hello there, sweetheart! Can I help you at all?” His voice is warm and soft, filled with a gentle kindness.

“Oh… Uh, I guess? Just wanted to come in for a minute, get outta the rain, ya know?”

He nods and continues to smile, but instead of being creepy it’s inviting and makes me smile a bit in return. There’s something comforting about that smile. It’s guileless and sweet, filled with the promise of comfort. 

“You’re dripping wet, sweetheart. Come in, come in! I’ll make up a batch of tea for you, get something nice and warm in you.”

“That’s not the only thing that could warm me up,” I attempt. My flirting skills are usually pretty shit though. But instead of laughing at me or shooting me down, he simply giggles, the sound musical and sweet. My heart stutters for a moment and I feel a blush erupt over my cheeks.

“Oh, you’re sweet. I could just eat you up~ But, you’re far too wet for me to do that. How about we get you warm first, then we can see about having some fun later.” His glasses slide down a little and he winks at me, smile turning coy.

"You got it, sweetheart,” I shoot back and he laughs this time, head thrown back and arms wrapped around his stomach. Oh, wow… I can feel the heaviness of the note in my pocket. How am I supposed to kill such a wonderful creature? He’s too cute. He can’t be the one I’m after. He simply can’t be. I’ve been coming here for almost three months, and each time he treats it as if it’s the first time he’s met me, but his smile is always warm as his flames. 

I carefully take off my soaked jacket and hat, then make my way to the overstuffed armchairs to sit as I watch Grillby go off and make his special tea. The entire shop smells of cooking honey and slightly bitter teas, with flowers on the windowsills and the warm colors painted on the walls, it’s a wonder that Grillby’s little tea shop isn’t more heavily populated with monsters and humans alike. But then, it is raining, and the streets were basically empty.

I can hear Grillby humming, something sad and sweet and it makes me frown. I’d seen a necklace around his neck once, just briefly, before he shifted his collar and it was gone. It’d made me curious but by the look in his eyes, he wasn’t ready to talk about it. Maybe I could get an answer out of him today. Then again, getting him to open up has been hard. He was slow to trust and he didn’t like talking, preferring I, or anyone of his other customers, do it instead. He was kind and warm, and there was always something so welcoming about him. Your eyes would slide right over him in a crowd, and you’d never be any wiser. He was a simple man leading a simple life, which was surprising with the number of speakeasies and gang activity in the area. But, maybe it was because he was so kind to everyone that he was left alone.

"Hello? You in there, darling?” I jump a little as Grillby’s voice drifts over, right near my ear. My blush grows deeper as he grins slowly, like a cat that got the cream and I take a deep breath, which wasn’t a good idea with him so close. He smells like charcoal and mint, something sweet, like honey, and something a little bitter and floral. The smell of his trademark teas and his cigarettes.

His hand comes up and gently pats my cheek, warmth flooding my face and spreading down my neck, his glasses slipping down just a little bit more and his liquid gold eyes look like a sunset. His mouth is a breath from mine and I can’t bring myself to utter a sound. And then, the heat is gone and he’s sitting across from me, crossing his legs and picking up a mug of tea, steam curling lazily off of it. He’s infuriatingly calm.

“Oh, don’t look like such a sourpuss, sweetie!” he giggles. “The way you look right now reminds me of when you first came in, grumpy and bad-tempered. I thought someone’d put a bee in your bonnet, you were so surly.” He giggles again and takes a drink. I watch for a moment before I reach out and take my own tea. It smells like honey and I can’t help but smile. He knows my favorites.

"You’re a right tease, Grillbaby.” I say as he snickers softly and shakes his head.

 “That was awful and you know it.”

"Eh, can’t fault a guy for trying though.”

“Mnhm, indeed I can’t.” he smiles, that same sweet, almost serene smile and sighs, looking out the window. “I hate days like these. I remember too much.”

“Mnh,” I have to swallow the too hot liquid quickly to ask, “Remember what?” The weight in my breast pocket feels heavier. I’m gonna get a life story and then kill him. That just feels wrong, in so many ways.

“I doubt you want to be bored to tears,” he begins but when I rapidly shake my head and drink more tea to keep myself from babbling, he smiles a bit and nods. “Well, alright then. If you want to know, I guess it won’t hurt.”

 He undoes his neat orange bowtie, and his cufflinks, enamel white bones with a gold P in the middle, flash. They’re small and the P is barely noticeable but then I’d been watching Grillby for a while. My eyes trail back up as he undoes the first two buttons of his clean pressed shirt and he pulls out a necklace. On it is a simple golden band, his fingers trail over it reverently.

“I was engaged to the most wonderful Monster. He made me laugh every day, no matter how bad a day it may have been. He was a little lazy sometimes, but he was sweet and charming, and he had the most wonderful laugh. I could feel safe when I was with him, in a way I have never felt safe before, or since. He had an older brother as well, another nice Monster. He was cute, short but he could always catch your eye and make you feel better. I suppose that’s why we became such good friends, and why I started to date his brother. We went through the Underground together, and we saw so much. I took him to Germany and we saw new models of cars being manufactured. I’d never seen him smile so wide.”

I drink more tea, feeling my heart break a little. I didn’t miss the past tense or the way Grillby was watching the rain come down in sheets, the way his fingers trailed over his ring and the faint choking of emotion in his voice. I finish off my mug and he silently pours me another and I start to drink more. The liquid is warm, almost too hot as it carves through my body but from how cold my wet clothes have made me, it’s a welcome boon.

“Then… Well, it wasn’t too long after we got back, actually. We’d been engaged for almost a year, our wedding was just around the corner actually. We had everything planned, down to who would come and where they’d sit, and what we would dance to at the end of the night. But, it wasn’t even a week out to our wedding that he was dusted. He and his brother both.”

His voice grows hard and I feel something pushing at the back of my mind. Why was that important?

Quietly, I ask,

“What happened to them?”

“They were shot. Feet from the church, actually. We were having a rehearsal of the ceremony and there were four very clear shots, Chicago lights, I guess you’d call them. It was raining and I could barely stand there as I begged him and Sans not to leave me. But, Sans was already a pile of soggy suit and ash, and my baby, my Honey, he was slipping through my fingers. I didn’t have enough to fill an urn between the two of them. It was washed away and I almost went out from the rain.”

My heart stutters, this time not in flustered emotion but in fear. He’s looking at me now, golden eyes hard and that smile isn’t sweet anymore but a razor’s edge, sharper even. He looks like he could burn me to ashes and I don’t know if it’s because he’s seeing the phantom he imagined of his fiancée’s killer or if he’s seeing me. There’s a feeling of dread creeping up in my stomach and I wash it down with the last of my tea. I can see their bone-white faces, confusion, and anger clear. I can hear the screams and the gunshots that splinter bone easy as paper, ringing in my head. My hand aches as if the kickback of handgun is fresh.

“That’s awful,” I manage to mumble. “What were their names?” I already know them.

“Sans was the shorter one, and Papyrus, well he was my fiancée. But,” he pulls out a cigarette and contemplates lighting it, then puts it away in his breast pocket. “You already knew that, didn’t you sweetheart?” his voice is saccharine sweet now and that sweet smile is sharp as a knife. I feel sick, my stomach seizing up as I stumble out of my chair and rush to the coat rack, grabbing my jacket and hat. I can hear his giggle turn to a sharp, bark of laughter as I rush out the door and into the storm.

I stop at the end of three blocks, heaving into a gutter. My internal organs are in agony, the burning fire is spreading, no longer warm and comforting but seething agony. My lungs feel like air is pointless, each inhale lined with fishhooks and gravel as I puke up more and more liquid bile. The smell is astonishing and makes my body heave more. I can’t even see, tears cloud my vision and the pounding rain washes away the evidence of my suffering.

I’m shaking, violently, trying to get another breath but it only brings pain and another heave of my stomach, despite nothing being left. I hack and wheeze as a thick iron-mucus taste invades my mouth and I choke on my own blood before I spit. It lands in a blog at my feet, lasting only seconds before it’s washed away. My grip on the wall weakens as my hands begin to freeze, my bones feel like they’re seizing as the rough brick bites into the flesh of my palms. I slide down to my knees and keep spitting up more blood. I feel like I’m choking, suffocating in an endless sea of pain and blood.

There’s sound, suddenly, and two pairs of well-shined shoes enter my blurry vision. I barely manage to look up and see two wavering flames. One is a rich emerald and the other is familiar. I wheeze out his name, but it’s lost in the next tide of pain. I barely register that the rain isn’t hitting my face anymore as the pair hold an umbrella over my pale face. 

"I’ll call the cops, I think he’s dead,” the emerald dame says and Grillby nods.

“I love it when they clean up for me,” he says, idle and the emerald one giggles, the sound just as musical and warm.

“Brother, you’re truly mean.”   
  
“No, I’m just cleaning up the streets. You can tell Boss that the scum is gone. He killed Papyrus and Sans, and was going to kill me. Two birds with one stone, really. I got my revenge and my mark is dead.” His voice is still warm and sweet, but there’s an underlying hardness there, something I can’t believe I missed. Weak, I lurch forward, falling almost on my face but I manage to grab his ankle.

“Gr-by… Bastard,” I wheeze through bloody teeth as I feel my gut twist and my heart start to seize. He tugs his leg away as the emerald dame screams, theatrical, about some vagabond… I realize, distantly, she means me. As my chest begins to stutter and I gasp my last breath, I can hear him say, that soft, warm voice no longer sweet and the purr deadly as a knife,

“Hmn? Oh, hello there, sweetheart! Can I help you at all?”

**Author's Note:**

> Bet you weren't expecting that, were you?


End file.
